Silver Rings and Broken Locks
by TheNightinGaleTurk
Summary: Jim plays a joke on Sebastian that makes him wonder if he really cares at all. It forces Sebastian take a job that an old friend recommends and ends up on the wrong end of a rifle. Will Jim rescue his tiger in time or will the unspeakable happen to Sebastian after he fails his mission? Time is running out. A story of love, hatred and loyalty. See inside for warnings. MorMor


Well hello darlings! I know it's been a while since I've written anything and I'm truly sorry about that. But I bring a new pairing that I dearly love! MorMor or James Moriarty and Sebastian Moran from the hit series Sherlock. I know, I know, I haven't finished some of my other's stories yet, but trust me, I'll get back to them. Promise. Just angst, romance, love, blood, and a hot kiss at the end for this one. I did make Seb and Jim's relationship a little more... loving... than most fanfics. I feel like despite the killing they really do love each other.

* * *

_You changed the locks? -SM_

_Rather be safe than sorry, Bastion. -JM_

_So you lock me out the house for the hell of it. -SM_

_You're a professional criminal, love. Find a way in. -JM_

_…You know… It really pisses me off when you do this. All the windows are locked except the one on the third floor and I'm not replacing another window. Open the door. -SM_

_Aww, but you're so adorable when you're angry and you fuck so much harder too! -JM_

_You did this on purpose. I swear it. Just for that, I'm going out. I won't be back tonight and when I do come back, I'm going to have a lock kit with me. -SM_

_Sebby, don't be like that! -JM_

_I am being like that. Besides, I just got a call. -SM_

_Sebastian, get your arse inside or you're not going to like the consequences. -JM_

_I am rolling my eyes right now, Jim. It's a job. You know money kind of job. I'll be home late and for the love of all things holy, don't you dare change the locks again. -SM_

_You're still taking hits for other people like a dirty whore, then? -JM_

_Rolling my eyes again. You're just mad you ain't getting none tonight because someone thought it would be funny to lock me out of the house. -SM_

_Who's to say I'd want anything from a common prostitute? -JM_

_Hrm. Copy and Paste on phones. What a wonderful thing. 'Aww, but you're so adorable when you're angry and you fuck so much harder too'. But then again, if I'm such a prostitute, you sure scream like a whore when I take you. I love you too, Jimbo. -SM_

_Love is a chemical defect, Sebastian. -JM_

_One that I suffer from greatly. Just go jerk off for now. I'll take care of you when I get home. Promise. -SM_

_If you get home. -JM_

_What does that supposed to mean? You call a hit on me or something? -SM_

_Well, I would, but my best hitman is whoring himself out to every idiot who needs someone killed. -JM_

_It's an old friend for Christ's sake, Jim. Calm your tits. I'll be home tonight. What, do you want me to stop earning money? -SM_

_I run every crime organization from here to Stromness. We're fine on money, Sebastian. -JM_

_So? It's a low blow that my boss lives with me and pays my bills. All I do is kill people and fuck you. I'd like to at least pay the damn grocery bill by myself. -SM_

_Trying to be the bread-winner, dear? That's sweet, but the two jobs you already perform are done well enough. If they weren't, I'd have thrown you out ages ago. -JM_

_Thanks. I feel so fucking needed. -SM_

_If you're looking for a confession of my undying love and how I'd be lost without you, I think you've got me confused with another man. -JM_

_Never from you. I've learned that by now. Can't blame me for hoping. See you later. -SM_

_I'll text you around 10 when I'm coming back. -SM_

_If bitterness were a font I'm afraid you've just used it. -JM_

_Yeah. Whatever. You know, when I try to talk to you about this kind of stuff, you shut me off or figuratively- if not literally- kick me in the balls for it. I know you've got some fucking weird shit going on inside your head the most of the time but I do- You know what, never mind. I'll text you later. -SM_

_…Sebastian, wait. -JM_

_-No Answer-_

**-10pm-**_  
Are you coming home? -JM_

_-No Answer-_

**-11pm-**_  
You will text me back. -JM_

_-No Answer-_

**-12am-**_  
…Please? -JM _

_-No Answer- _

**-1am-**_  
[Incoming Call From James Morality]_

_-No Answer-_

**-2am-**_  
Sebastian Moran. -JM  
Bastian. -JM  
[Draft] Sebastian, don't you fucking do this to me you son of a  
[Text] You alive? Not like I care. -JM_

_-No Answer-_

**-3am-**

_Would you like to hear a story? No? I'll tell you anyway. There was once a great tiger, who was brave and strong and who followed his master loyally. He went on his own to get something for his master one night to prove his loyalty instead of going to kill something like he was told to do by an old master. So the person who ordered him took the chance to catch the tiger. And he skinned him. (Unknown Number)_

_Whoever you are, are you trying to be cute or scare me? Neither is working very well. -JM_

_Oh neither, dear. I just wanted you to know that your little tiger wasn't going to come home. I'll ship the ring he had to you in a box. (Unknown Number)_

_I have eyes on every corner of this country. In a matter of seconds, I'll know exactly where Moran is and have five riflemen squabbling for the chance to put a bullet in your brain. -JM_

_Hrm! Didn't tell you where he was going then. Oh well. There is a box in front of your apartment's door. No harm will come to you if you open it and stick your pretty head out. You weren't the one we were after, so why would we harm you anyway? Have a good evening, Mr. Moriarty. (Unknown Number)_

_I'd very well like to see you harm me. -JM_

Jim sent out a text to each of his watchmen around the city for a lead on Sebastian's whereabouts and, within a minute, received 17 replies of where he was walking, where he was ambushed an where he was beforehand. Jim would never admit it, but he couldn't fight the twinge of worry flickering in his stomach and he refused to play into a game that wasn't his own and ignored the 'box at the door.'

None of them had an exact location of where he was. Five of the replies were not sent again and there was eeriness to the situation. The night was darker than usual and it was snowing outside now. The little black box sat outside with a red ribbon on it and had nothing attached to it. It didn't move or shake, nor did it explode. After a few minutes, no one replied back at all.

_We don't plan to harm you. But we will harm those who look into our business. See, Sebastian Mora owes us work. He didn't show up to kill the person we told him to. So we take collateral. (Unknown Number)_

_Don't hurt his face, that's my favorite bit… or his arse, for that matter. -JM_

Jim wished he could feel as flippant as his message implied, but he began feeling more and more solicitous as he received no definite information on Sebastian. He realized that if Sebastian were killed t would be his fault, and he cursed himself for choosing now to develop a conscience.

_I don't think that'll be possible, Mr. Moriarty. Understand when someone owes us, we take it out in blood. He screams well. Soon as he finishes the job he was ordered to do for us, we'll let him go. All in all, he got mixed up with the wrong sort of people once upon a time and now he has to pay for his mistakes. (Unknown Number)_

Jim received one text back from an elderly lady on Ninth Street. 'Kitten is gone. Other watchers are dead. I'm the last. Need more info.' The box outside suddenly became the only lead to Sebastian's whereabouts.

_Sebastian doesn't really respond well to torture, take it from me. Try cheap whores and a bottle of Blue Label, he'll be putty in your hands. -JM_

_You would be surprised. Torture seems to be working well enough as it is. Thank you for understanding, Mr. Moriarty. If he complies, or lives rather, he will be allowed to return to you. Of course, we will need to call on him again for other assignments… but it will be some time later. (Unknown Number)_

_Pleasure to be of assistance. -JM_

Jim cast a sidelong glance at the front door before sighing aloud and crossing the parlor to open it. At his feet was the box and after a second's examination, he determined it wouldn't detonate or maim him in any way, so he plucked it off the ground in one hand, turning it over a few times before choosing to open it. Sat in the center was a very simple male's ring. It was made of the purest silver and had the engraving, 'Forever Your Tiger' on the side. The ring was Jim's size and the engraving was brand new. It had droplets of red splashed across it and had an edge of a piece of paper sticking up from underneath the black cushion the ring lay on. "Please let that be for someone else, or I'm going to feel even worse if he dies." He thought.

He chewed the inside of his lip, fiddling with the ring in his fingers before extracting the slip of paper lying beneath it. In the chicken scratch handwriting of Sebastian Moran, it said '400 Black, East Side, Warehouse 15, 2 man team, rifle required'. It was a simple hit order but provided everything that Jim needed in a second when his vibrated once more.

_Seems you will have your tiger after all. (Unknown Number)_

_Funny little game you're playing. Let's guess the twist: either he's already dead or you're going to off him soon as I show up to reclaim my property. -JM_

Despite the obvious reasons why he shoulder just ignore the not, Jim found himself retrieving the case for Sebastian's spare L115A3 Long Range from the closet and waiting by his mobile for any further insight on the tiger's location.

_He finished his job for us, Mr. Moriarty. To be perfectly honest with you, I'm rather surprised he did. He'll be returning to you shortly. (Unknown Number)_

_ Fun's over, then? Why don't we get on a first name basis now so we can arrange another little playdate? -JM_

_I'm afraid we can't allow that. One operative working for someone else is enough. Besides, he knows if he tells you that we'll kill you and him both. Your death is one thing he wasn't going to allow to do. It's rather easy to get to the king's favorite tiger… so how easy is it to get to the king I wonder? No matter. Names are not important. You will receive your pawn soon enough. Have a good evening, Mr. Moriarty. (Unknown Number)_

_And the same to you, we should do this again sometime. Though, I'm sure the next time we meet, one of us will have a few holes in his head. -JM_

_I'm sure that'll be true. (Unknown Number)_

**-4am-**

There came a thump against the door, not a loud one or even one that would have been heard if the other man's ears weren't straining to hear something. Jim immediately unlocked the door and flung it open, the most of his warnings drained at the sight of Sebastian. Alive by a miracle. However, what state he was in was left to be seen. He took the taller man by the wrist and pulled him into the flat, looking him over before meeting his gaze, for once, Jim Moriarty was at a loss for words. His coat was zipped up to the top of his eyes were heavy lidded, "Hey…" Sebastian whispered and looked him over, his own breathing shallow. His blond hair was dirty, tangled and bloody. Even his nose was bleeding and he seemed bent over at an awkward angle, avoiding using his right leg. A bloody footprint was left behind.

Jim didn't respond, but wrapped an arm around Sebastian's waist, careful to avoid any areas that seemed to be hurt. He hefted the rifleman to the sofa before reaching to unzip his jacket and examine any wounds beneath it, "I'll find him," His voice came out calmer than he'd expected, "I'll skin him alive, personally." Sebastian shook his head and stopped Jim's hand, "Don't." His voice hadn't raised an octave. The shirt from what the other could see was bloomed with red and his breathing was still very low. "Don't go after them…" Sebastian made an effort to sit up from his half slump, pulling his hands away. Even though he was wearing cloves, his hands were bleeding so much the blood dripped like they had slashed his palms.

The amount of blood spilling out of Sebastian was alarming. 2.25 liters was enough to kill a man and if Jim didn't act fast, Sebastian would fade from him forever. He pulled out the surplus of first aid equipment Sebastian usually used to patch up them both and got to work cutting off the scarlet stained shirt and mopping up most of the blood to find their sources. Sebastian made a noise that might have been a sentence if it hadn't turned into a cough. Blood came out of his mouth and he choked on it at first. "Sorry…" His whisper was hoarse and pain filled. The man was breathing slower and slower, gritting his teeth and forcing his eyes wide like he was trying to stop himself from passing out. A harsh bruise was forming around the left side of his face.

"Shh." Jim murmured, touched his fingertips lightly to Sebastian's jaw and continuing his work of cleaning out the wounds with rubbing alcohol and determining which he needed to stitch up first. For the ones shallow enough to heal on their own, he taped on patches of gauze to staunch the blood flow. He carefully removed Sebastian's gloves to clean away his hands, "Just show me wherever else you're hurt," his voice was low, and he didn't want Sebastian to exert any more unnecessary energy. Sebastian swallowed and tried to turn a little, his face turned a sickly shade as a result. The sniper was wearing a dark blue shirt- or at least, it had been blue before blood strained the midsection crimson. There was a slash in it, just underneath the ribs on Sebastian's left side.

"Sorry…" He muttered again and licked his lips. "I'm… getting blood on the couch…" He coughed and had to lean into his right toward the couch before he fell off of it completely. Jim removed the last of Sebastian's shirt and cleaned the cut. It was probably the worst, gushing out most of the blood spilling down the gunman's side. Jim pulled the thin needle and stitching threat out of the kit, cleaned them and began carefully sewing up the deep slash until it was closed and he tied off the end. He gave another examination over Sebastian's chest and what he could see of his back then caught his eyes, his expression softer than anyone would ever see of Jim Moriarty, "Sebastian… I do love you," His tiger's wounded state was bringing out the shred of sentimentality locked away in his brain, "If I lost you… I'd…" He trailed off, resting his hand on Sebastian's.

Sebastian shut his eyes and swallowed repeatedly, trying to keep awake and keep a clear head. He looked at Jim and used his energy to pull him gently down to kiss him, "I love you too." His voice cracked at the end of it and his forehead rested against Jim's for a second before the hand slipped away in almost slow motion and landed with a softened thud on the couch. His eyes slowly shut. Jim quickly felt for a pulse and when finding a slow beating one his head dropped into one of his hands. He sat on the couch and eased Sebastian into his lap, hand stroking his hair in hopefully a soothing manner. "Don't you dare die on me, Moran. This isn't how it works. You're not supposed to die first." He murmured, resisting the bubble of hysteria rising in his throat. "Please… don't die."

It was a long time before Sebastian woke up to the sound of silence. He felt sore and he took a deep breath, filling his lungs with air on his own. At first he almost choked on the oxygen and coughed hard. "Ow…" He whispered and wondered where he was and what in the hell had happened last night to make him feel like… like… he was distracted by looking down at himself and all the bandages wrapped around his torso. Jim had stayed awake in the hours of Sebastian's unconsciousness, watching the shallow rise and fall of his battered chest. He knew Sebastian was alive, but couldn't help the rush of relief that came over him at the sign of his hitman's waking. He ran his hand down the side of the large man's face, attempting to soothe any confusion he might have upon waking.

Sebastian flinched at first then realized it was Jim and sighed, "What the hell happened…" He asked remembering nothing but snow, blood and silver. It was a rush in his head and when he tried to sit up he went straight back down afterward. Feeling so nauseated he had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from puking. "I'm really unsure. But we'll discuss it later, it's unimportant," he was aware his protective instinct hadn't worn off and he wasn't sure it would until Sebastian was back in a fit state. The blond looked at him and swallowed, "You… look different." He whispered and looked down at the bandages again. He felt a urge to apologize and acted on it, "I'm sorry."

"Stop saying that," It wasn't Sebastian's fault, if Jim hadn't been such an arse to that only person he'd ever trusted, they'd have never had this problem. Those thought coursed through his mind but said instead, "You lost a lot of blood. Are you hungry?" The taller shook his head and leaned up to kiss him, "I don't know why… but I feel like I should keep apologizing until I die. I'm fine… you look tired." Sebastian said pointedly and coughed to the side before returning his gaze to the shorter above him. Jim pressed his lips to the blond's lightly again, even the stirrings of breath coming out of them were a gift. "You'd be apologizing for a while. I'm not letting you die on me any time soon. And I'm all right," He assured.

The hitman sighed and lay still suddenly for a moment remembering a silver ring he'd gotten before he was… ambushed. He reopened his eyes and looked at him, "They took… They said they'd… Did you get a ring?" His voice was urgent, like he'd forgotten something extremely important. Jim furrowed his eyebrows before it dawned on him. He remembered the silver band in his trouser pocket and shifted slightly to pull it out and showing the now clean piece to him. Sebastian sighed in relief. He took the ring from him and held it up before his eyes. His other hand twined his fingers with the blond and held them close to his chest, his own heartbeat still refusing to regulate.

Sebastian looked at it and sighed again, "Now I remember." He whispered and swallowed, "I'm glad I made it back to you…" His head was swimming and he slow took Jim hand. He slowly slid the ring on and stared at it for a few moments. "It's yours… I got it engraved but… I didn't get back in time to give it to you since yesterday was technically the anniversary of the day we met…" Jim looked at him in shock and swallowed, "You'll always find your way back to me. You're mine and I'm yours." Jim's voice was hard, serious but he allowed a small smile to creep over his lips, "I'll never take it off." He cooed and swatted the air playfully. Jim pulled Sebastian up closer to him and placed a peck of a kiss on his forehead.

The blond smiled and allowed himself a brief moment of heart-filled love and kissed the other on the mouth with as much passion as he could muster for a man beaten up and currently unable to get off his own couch. He pulled back, swallowing and his breath coming a little quicker from the emotion he'd just put into it. "I'll gladly be yours." He said referring to the 'You're mine and I'm yours.' He looked down at the ring and chuckled a little, "Don't." Jim shivered at the raw surge of emotion he'd been oppressing since the day they'd met all those years ago. Being so close to losing him made the criminal realize how easily the only man he'd actually _loved_ could be stripped from him.

Jim nuzzled his cheek into Sebastian's hair and let out a breath, "Promise me you'll punch me if I take you for granted again." The blond looked at him and laughed pulling Jim on top of him with a grunt. The wounds didn't like the movement at all but he didn't car. "How about I just remind you instead of punching you." His thumb went over Jim's cheek and he looked at him with heavily lidded eyes. His other arm wrapped lay across his chest. Jim straddled Sebastian's hips, careful not to touch any of the healing cuts and bruises. "Come on, Bastian. I'm sure there's been plenty of time you've wanted to chin me." He remarked, the glint of humor returning to his eyes. "True… but I like that mug of yours too much." He said looking up at the other, his head cocked to the side while he said it with gentle ease. The corner of Sebastian's lips were tilted upward at the edges and he didn't seem to be bother at all by their movements.

Jim moved to claim Sebastian's lips with his own, the kiss different from their usual feverish, lusting snogs. It was more… kind, more binding. Jim decided he liked it. He reciprocated it with gentle movements and licked along the lips slowly. It was soft, slow and meaningful. Sebastian like it too and put his hands to rest on the smaller's hips, not moving farther than this. Jim broke the kiss reluctantly, "Don't think this means I'm going soft." He teased before pressing their lips back together. "You?" Sebastian answered between their surfacing for oxygen and loving strokes. "Never." His smile was one of knowing, but then again… he wouldn't care if he didn't go soft. As long as he had the other.

The Irishman fit himself into the curve of his tiger's body, nuzzling his face into the warmth of Sebastian's neck, arms wrapping protectively around the bandaged torso. Sebastian hummed softly and put his own arms gently around the other, running a swift hand up and down Jim's back. He sighed happily and laid there, his chest slowly rising and falling. Both their hearts rhythmically beating together.

* * *

It's over. *cries* So review and tell me what you think darlings! I'm glad that this one turned out pretty well. I take all reviews. Thankies!


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